


Maple Walnut Freeze

by RavenclawProngs



Series: Tumbling Through the World [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: FACE Family, Gen, Human & Country Names Used (Hetalia)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 11:35:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15971513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenclawProngs/pseuds/RavenclawProngs
Summary: Alfred, why do you need a walk-in freezer, seriously.Seriously.





	Maple Walnut Freeze

"Birdie, just why does your brother have a walk-in freezer in his home?"

Matthew snorted, "I have asked myself the same question.  But at least it means there's plenty of ice cream.  If I'm going to make it through this festival of spangles of his, I'm going to need a metric fuck-ton of maple walnut.  Or beer, but Al's taste in beer sucks," he groused.

Gilbert nodded in commiseration.  "Sorry I couldn't teach him the value of a good lager while I was teaching him to fight.  That's the sort of lesson you learn **after** you've won and I was, ah, busy after his revolution."

Matthew shrugged, still rummaging through the shelves.  "Eh, I blame Prohibition.

Maybe we can go out after this shindig and find some **real** beer.  I want a beer so dark, it bends space-time around it."

"Sounds good.  Somewhere **warm,** I'm freezing my ass off here."

Matthew laughed.  "Oh, come on, it's not that cold," he teased.

"Maybe for you," he griped.  "Jeez, could you hurry up?  How hard can it be to find a gallon of ice cream?"

Matthew swore under his breath as he moved yet another box of frozen hamburger patties aside to find even more things he wasn't after behind them.

"Have you seen his organizational skills?"

"No..." Gilbert trailed off.

"Exactly.  He hasn't got any.  A-ha!  Found it!  Come over here and give me a boost."

Gilbert frowned.  "Seriously?  Aren't you taller than me?"

"Well, yes, but it's all the way up there," Matthew pointed.  Up on the highest shelf in the huge freezer, there was one lonely carton of maple walnut ice cream wedged between several bags of frozen vegetables.  Gilbert scoffed in disbelief.

"Are you sure your brother isn't trolling you?"

"It's entirely possible," Matthew muttered.  "Gilbert, please?" he begged, lavender eyes big and sad; with his hair in disarray from his fruitless rummaging, he made an adorable and pitiful picture.  No one has ever claimed Gilbert had any resistance to cute things.  His resolve to stay near the door in the meager warmth filtering in from the rest of the kitchen melted like sugar in a rainstorm.

Appearances being appearances, even among his friends, he made a big show of sighing exasperatedly before pushing off from the door.

"Fine, but you're buying the first round later," he grumbled.

"Okay!" Matthew agreed brightly, all sunny smiles now that his favorite frozen treat was (nearly) in his grasp.

Gilbert stopped in front of him and looked from Matthew to the ice cream, pondering the most efficient way to get at it.  Eventually, the best, and most horrifying, solution presented itself to him.  He sighed.  He was really going to **need** that beer after this.

"Alright, hoist me up," he muttered.

"What?" Matt squeaked.

"Look, just, don't make a big deal of it and get me up there!" he retorted.  It was a big deal and they both knew it; had anyone else been around, Matthew was sure Gilbert would have sooner broken his own neck than make the offer.

But one of the reasons they'd become friends in the first place was Matt's discretion, so he carefully did not smile, placidly linking his fingers together to make a step and holding steady while Gil used that and his shoulder to haul himself level with the shelf, grabbing the ice cream and allowing Matt to lower him to the ground.

"Alright, we have your ice cream, let's get out of here before I turn into an ice sculpture," he groused.

Matt chuckled at the mental image and pushed on the door handle.  It didn't budge.  He frowned, then tried lifting up on it instead.  Still nothing.  Truly starting to worry now, he set the ice cream on a low shelf and grasped the handle with both hands, trying, to no avail, to get the door to move.  All he got for his troubles was a bruised shoulder and chilled hands.

Gilbert watched all of this incredulously.  "Don't tell me we're locked in here," he deadpanned.

Matthew looked at him helplessly.  "Okay, I won't tell you."

Gilbert swore.  "What the fuck is wrong with your brother?  Who builds a walk-in freezer that locks once you **walk in?"**

Matthew shrugged tiredly.  "Alfred, apparently."  He dug through his pockets and pulled out his phone, only to stare at it in frustration.  No signal.

"I don't suppose **yours** has signal?" he asked hopefully, but Gilbert was already shaking his head.

"Sorry, Birdie, I left it in my jacket."  A sudden shiver wracked his frame, as if to underline that he only had on a thin t-shirt and an undershirt.

Frowning in concern, Matthew wrestled his hoodie off over his head and held it out to him.  Gilbert stared at it, then at him.

"Mattie, I'll be fine."  He shivered again, belying his own words.

"Gil, please."

"You're not wearing much more than me," he protested.

Matt's mouth tightened.  "Prussia, put on the damned shirt," he snapped.

Gilbert flinched like he'd been slapped.  Matthew hadn't called him that in... ages.  Reluctantly, he took the shirt from Matthew and pulled it over his head.  Privately, he could admit that he probably needed it as the leftover warmth from Matthew's body enveloped him, the scent of pine and something sweet tickling his nose.  He shoved his hands in the pocket and discovered a stash of light brown sweets, as well as a bag of dried fish.  Experimentally, he took a nibble of the meat and wrinkled his nose slightly at the taste.  Very bland but for the smokiness from being cured.  He contemplated the candy next.

Wary now, he slowly unwrapped the crunchy brown leaf, recognizing the shape from Matthew's flag.  And also from the bottle of maple syrup he'd given Gilbert once...?  He brought it up to his face and licked it.  Deep, earthy sweetness burst over his tongue.  Reassured now, he slid the rest of the candy into his mouth, eyes falling shut in sheer delight as the maple sugar coated his tongue.

Meanwhile, Matthew had been trying to get any signal at all on his phone, texting as many people as he could remember were at the party in hopes that at least one of his messages would get through and they'd be rescued.  Having finally exhausted the guest list and only having the "message not sent" error for his troubles, he slammed one hand against the door, startling Gilbert into swallowing his treat whole and having a brief coughing fit.

Matthew looked askance at him and Gilbert smiled at him sheepishly, guiltily shoving the empty wrapper into his own pocket.  The confusion cleared from Matt's face.

"That's probably a good idea.  There's no telling how long we might be stuck in here, better to have some calories to burn," and he looked critically at Gilbert's slim frame.  "Better have some more of those.  And some of Kumajiggly's fish, too."

Gilbert raised an eyebrow.  "Is that why it's one of the blandest things I've ever tasted?"

Matthew laughed slightly.  "Yeah.  He's not big on a lot of flavoring for his fish."  He looked at his phone again, but there was no change.  Sighing angrily, he marched over to the door and started rhythmically pounding against it.

Chewing a chunk of the fish mechanically, Gilbert sloped over to join him, using his knuckles to create a higher counterpoint.  After several long minutes of this, they finally heard the muffled sound of their salvation through the door, Alfred's loud voice carrying even through the thick steel.  They pounded on the door louder.

His voice stopped whatever rant he was on and suddenly came again from just outside, a short phrase with a sharp consonant at the end.  Matthew'd eat his hat if it wasn't "what the fuck?"

The door opened, and there was America in all his star-spangled glory, looking at the two of them quizzically.

"Mattie?  Gilbert?  What are you guys doing in here?"

Matt gave him a scathing look.  "Chilling."

Al gave him a dumbfounded look in return before his face went blank and he closed the door in their faces.

There was a moment of stunned silence before Matthew and Gilbert redoubled their efforts on the door.

Alfred opened it again.

Glaring fiercely, Matthew pushed past his brother, dragging Gilbert by the sleeve.

"Al, what the fuck?"

Alfred snorted at him.  "Dude, for a joke that bad, you deserve to be put on ice."

Matthew continued glaring.  "Maybe so, but Gilbert doesn't.  Do you want to be responsible for him freezing to death?"

Al looked at him incredulously.  "He'd've been fine!  A little cold air's not going to kill him."  Then he looked at Gilbert a little more closely and saw how what little color Gilbert ever had was starting to return to his face.

Matthew got very quiet and intense, his voice taking on tones neither had heard from him since the War, though from different sides than they were on now.  "Do you really want to take that chance, Alfred?"

Alfred gulped, then looked back at Gilbert again, but he was staring at Matthew in awe, teeth starting to chatter as his body adjusted to the warm room.  Al looked down at his feet, abashed.

"No, I don't.  Sorry, Gilbert."

 Gilbert fixed him with a sharp-eyed stare, aware of how seldom Alfred ever said such a thing.  He nodded gravely, opening his mouth to say something only to be interrupted by a gigantic sneeze.  Alfred suddenly looked a thousand times guiltier.

"Shit man, I really am sorry.  Let me get you some blankets or something, okay?"  Not waiting for an answer, he dashed from the room in search of his typical winter hibernation gear.

Matt pulled Gilbert into a hug and rubbed his back vigorously, trying to warm him back up.  Gilbert gave a start of surprise, since usually Matthew was fairly reserved, but between his own natural inclinations and the amount of heat Matthew gave off, he quickly melted into the hug, burying his face in the crook of Matthew's neck, not even bothering to pull his hands out of the cozy front pocket of Matt's hoodie.

When Alfred came back into the kitchen with an armful of blankets, it was to the unusual sight of his brother wrapped up in a hug.  Then again, Matthew was a living furnace and Gilbert was freezing, so Alfred shook off his surprise and cleared his throat.

"Hey, let's get you into the sun-room; it's warmer than in here."

*~*

A few minutes later they'd gotten Gilbert safely ensconced in the sunniest chair on Alfred's glassed-in sun porch, piles of blankets covering him, mug of hot chocolate in hand.  Matthew was sat next to him, alternately fussing over the blankets and checking he was warm enough, and savoring bites of maple walnut ice cream (with extra maple syrup drizzled on top).

Gilbert good-naturedly put up with the fussing but was absolutely scandalized at the ice cream eating.

"Birdie, we just escaped near-popsiclification, why on earth are you eating ice cream?"

Matthew snorted.  "After the afternoon we've had, I'm even more in need of maple therapy than I was before."

Alfred just stared at his brother in sick fascination.

"Gil, dude, I hate to break it to you, but I've seen him go out into a blizzard for a Klondike bar.  He tried to eat it on the way home and nearly broke a tooth--had to let it thaw before he could take a bite."

Gilbert gaped at him in awe.

Matt shrugged nonchalantly.  "When you've got a craving, you've got a craving."

Finally, Gilbert managed to stutter out, "Well, I guess that answers one eternal question.  I suppose the only one left is: boxers or briefs?"

Alfred choked on his soda, sputtering indignantly as he tried to defend his brother's non-existent dignity.  Matt, meanwhile, just rolled his eyes and deadpanned, "Neither.  I go commando.  Full Highlander-style like Uncle Scott."

Gil collapsed into helpless laughter while Alfred nearly turned purple with embarrassment.

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a meme involving Russia and America, but obviously I changed it around a little.


End file.
